The Fur Trader by Sam Ferguson Page B

the side of the tent.”
    “Why didn’t you use your magic, boy? The bear would have run if you had hit it with fire,” Garrin said.
    Richard pulled back from Garrin and sniffled.
    “I can’t do it all the time,” he said. “I’m not sure how to control my magic yet. Sometimes it comes, and other times I think I can call it, but nothing happens.”
    “Richard!” William called out from outside the tent. “Richard, you all right?”
    “I’m fine Uncle,” Richard replied quickly. “Just bit my coat, that’s all.”
    “Praise the gods!” William exclaimed. The tent flap opened again and William stumbled in.
    Garrin caught the hint of a shimmer in the starlight and realized that William was carrying a weapon.
    “Sword?” Garrin asked.
    William grunted. “Rapier,” he said. “I know it isn’t the rugged sort of weapon you would expect out here, but it’s what I am best at.”
    Garrin had to choke back a laugh. “No wonder the bear took a swipe at you. With a needle like that, all you are going to do is make a bear mad. Better to cast it aside and fashion a spear out of a long branch.”
    “You fight your way, and I will fight my way,” William replied sternly.
    Kiska entered the tent at that moment, spooking Richard nearly into open sobs again. Garrin patted the boy on the back to quiet him, announcing that it was only Kiska.
    “She won’t hurt you. She’s inspecting the tent.”
    “For what?” William asked.
    Kiska sniffed loudly along the floor of the tent and pushed her way between the three of them. After a moment, she came up with something in her mouth. She turned her head and dropped something on Garrin’s lap. In the darkness he couldn’t see what it was. He slid his right hand over it and knew instantly why the bear had come. He lifted the length of dried meat up to his nose and sniffed it.
    “Who brought the meat in the tent?” Garrin asked.
    “I put most of the food in the bear hang,” William began, “But I…”
    “But what?” Garrin asked as he chucked the piece of food at William. “There are rules up here you must live by. To break them is to invite death. ALL food goes in the bear hang at night. If you think this was bad, just wait until we are traveling in welk territory. They will make you beg for a bear attack.”
    “Don’t blame me for the bear!” William shouted.
    Garrin reached over and socked William in the side of the head. William went down to the ground, hard. He started to rise, but Kiska was looming over him, growling low. William remained very still.
    “It is your fault,” Garrin said. “The bear was hungry. It was looking for food. I had seen this very same bear after my recent trapping excursion. It came to my house looking for food and was easy enough to scare off without needing to kill it. You lured it here with a hefty piece of meat. If Richard had died tonight, the blame and guilt would rest with you, not the bear. Do something as stupid as this again, and I will tie you to a tree and leave you with a piece of dried meat hanging around your neck. You will not endanger my camp again. Understand?”
    William whispered calmly, “I understand. I’m sorry.”
    Garrin rose to his feet. “Richard, get some sleep. William, I’m going to build a fire, and you are going to spend the remainder of the night tending to it and keeping watch.”
    Garrin left the tent, but Kiska didn’t move away from William until several moments after Garrin had exited.
    The next morning saw no lessening of the tension. Garrin cast frequent, angry glances at William while the nobleman nursed his pride and silently poked at the fire. No one spoke during breakfast. They ate their food and packed camp silently. William and Richard waited quietly, watching Garrin skin and butcher the bear from the night before. Kiska and Rux made short work of more than half the meat from the carcass. Garrin cooked the rest and packed it for a later time.
    Garrin brought the bear skin over to